


The Taste That Your Lips Allow

by skyline



Series: Stardust [2]
Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: District Four, First Kiss, Hunger Games AU, M/M, bb!boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyline/pseuds/skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kendall’s hair catches the sunlight as James sets his blowtorch aside, ready to follow him down. He is gold, gold and green, his features cut like the statues of mermen that they keep in town square. He skitters down onto the ladder, awkward, long limbs, and James catches the scent of brine that clings to his skin. James breathes deep. He really loves that smell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste That Your Lips Allow

The wind whips James’s hair back and forth like a pennant. Steel rivets lump under his palms. The blowtorch in his lap is still warm to the touch. The crow’s nest sways. From this height, James can see everything in Four, from the thin strip of white sand that curves into the horizon to the tin roofs in town, spotted with age. The salt air eats through everything. It runs through his veins and settles, abrasive against his bones.  
  
He aches to swim, but he’s still got hours of work left if they’re to finish this order. The unforgiving sun beats down against his shoulders. James makes to stand. A flash of gold catches his eye amidst the piles of scrap, where everything is silver; iron and steel and tin. _Sweet_. James has never been so excited for company.  
  
“Kendall,” he shouts down to the shipyard, trying to catch his best friend’s attention. Kendall’s eyes raise up, up, up, and he grins.  
  
“What are you doing up there?”  
  
“Welding.”  
  
“That sounds boring.”  
  
James shrugs. He’s not a big fan of hard labor in general. “Are you going to come up?”  
  
“I’d rather you came down.”  
  
“Don’t be a chicken.”  
  
Kendall glances sharply to the left and then to the right, checking to see if anyone has heard this challenge to his manhood, but it’s just them, the scrapheap, and the half-finished hull of the boat James is perched on. He obediently scampers up the rope ladder dangling in the breeze, but pauses at the base of the crow’s nest. “Are you sure you don’t want to come down?”  
  
James beams. “I like it up here.”  
  
Kendall grudgingly scales up to James, wincing when the nest sways. It can barely hold the weight of two twelve year old boys. “This is dangerous.”  
  
“So are lots of things,” James replies. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”  
  
Kendall makes a face. “Katie’s sick. I’m supposed to stay home and watch her until mom gets back. We’re going to end up eating butterfish for dinner again.”  
  
“Could be worse,” James comments, because he has known hunger his whole life. Kendall’s never really understood how lucky he is to be the son of fishermen. It’s been hard for him since his dad died, but his mom still smuggles home part of her day’s catch every evening, and Kendall’s got an apprenticeship of his own to steal from. Combine all that with their pay and the Knight’s table is never empty.  
  
It’s hard to resent Kendall for it, though. He is generous. He is kind. Every new skill he picks up, he passes on to James. He shares his lunch at school. He drags James on all his solo expeditions, from crabbing to spear fishing. He knows how to dodge Peacekeepers and the whipping post instinctively. Kendall treats poaching from the Capitol like it’s a game, like danger can’t touch him. It’s hard not to believe him when they’re lying sprawled together in the sand, laughing, nets flush with fish.  
  
“You’re right. We could let mom do the cooking,” Kendall agrees, nose wrinkling. “Anyway, I was thinking about swimming out to the reef for real food. You coming?”  
  
“What about Katie? Wait.” James glances around. “If you’re supposed to be watching her, where is she?”  
  
“Out front, trying to convince your dad to give you the rest of the day off.” Kendall replies easily.  
  
“She’s six.”  
  
“So? She’s smarter than us.” Kendall says, all open affection. James sometimes thinks becoming a big brother was the proudest moment of his life. “You didn’t answer the question, Diamond.”  
  
“Sure, if dad says I can go.”  
  
“He will,” Kendall replies, algae-bloom eyes shining, convinced of his own majesty. It makes James’s heart skip a beat.  
  
Or maybe that’s the way the crow’s nest pitches dangerously to the left.  
  
“I want to get off this thing,” Kendall informs him immediately, his face paling. James snorts. It’s nice to know that Kendall isn’t completely fearless.  
  
“Alright.”  
  
Kendall’s hair catches the sunlight as James sets his blowtorch aside, ready to follow him down. He is gold, gold and green, his features cut like the statues of mermen that they keep in town square. He skitters down onto the ladder, awkward, long limbs, and James catches the scent of brine that clings to his skin. James breathes deep. He really loves that smell.  
  
He really loves this impish, impulsive boy, too.  
  
“Hey, Kendall?”  
  
Kendall pauses, balanced carefully on the metal rungs that lead down to the bow of this incomplete ship. “Yeah?”  
  
James leans across the rivets he’s just finished installing, one hand on the rail. The kiss is barely more than a brush of their lips, soft and sweet and perfect.  
  
It still makes Kendall’s grip slip. One second he is there, staring at James in open mouthed awe, and the next he is plummeting straight down to the deck. He ends up with a broken arm and bruised ribs and a smile that takes months to dissipate.  
  
That is how James always remembers their first kiss.


End file.
